Today's Lunch...

Today's lunch...Courage!

One bite at a time...
that is how you eat a sandwich. That's how you eat an elephant. But what about the monsters?  Do you eat them too?

I heard of one mother's solution for monsters.  She filled a mist spray bottle with water and fragrance.  At bedtime when the monsters hid under her child's bed, she pulled out the monster spray.  She allowed the child to lightly spray under and around the bed, and magically the monsters disappeared.  The action gave satisfaction to the child.  Safety and security were just poofs away:  sanctuary within the child's power.

But, what about us grown-ups?  How do we deal with the monsters?

Roast Beast?  No.  Roast Beef.  Yes.  And.... leftover roast beef sandwich!  So tasty.  So good.  So comforting.  After cutting my sandwich, I realized that I had cut it just the way my Mama did when I was a little girl.  I can't imagine how many sandwiches she made when my brother & I were growing up, but she always cut them into four squares.  The toast, the roast, the mustard, Miracle Whip, ketchup and pickle... all good stuff.  But, the best of all is what I now remember... the love.  Thank you, Mama.

And that is how we deal with the monsters:  LOVE.

"For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life,
nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present,
nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature,
shall be able to separate us from the love of God,
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

~Holy Bible, Romans 8:38-39

........................................................

Mama Lou's Pot Roast

Salt & Pepper 3-4 lb beef roast.  Dredge in flour.  Sear all sides of roast in bacon grease (hot oil if you're steering away from pork fat) until crispy brown.  (High heat. Caution:  it splatters!)

Mix together in crock pot:

1 can Campbell's French Onion Soup
1 1/2 cans water
2 Tablespoons B-B-Q sauce
1 teaspoon Kitchen Bouquet (Sold in grocery stores beside the Worcestershire sauce.)

Gently place seared meat in crock pot with fatty side on top.  Spoon soup mixture over the roast so that some of the onions are on top of the meat.  Cover with lid.  Cook on high for 2 hours.  Rotate meat, fatty side down.  Cook for one hour.  Rotate meat again... turn crock pot down to low and simmer for one more hour or until done.

Pull roast from pot and place on cutting board.  Remove any layers of fat.  Cover with foil.  Cool for 10 minutes before cutting or shredding.  After cutting/shredding, drizzle pan juices over the meat to prevent drying out.  Cover with foil until time to serve.

My favorite pot roast pot!  From the 1980's.

@Copyright 2014, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

The Keys

She said that her neighbor dropped by for a visit and had left without her apartment keys.  Realizing the keys were still there, that's when Mama tracked down her neighbor, and she gave away the keys. The neighbor greatly appreciated her efforts.

Meanwhile...

I searched. I searched my purse, my tote bag. I searched the house. I searched my car. I searched through the clutter on my kitchen bar. I searched my purse again. I dumped everything out of my tote bag. I cried. I searched through pockets. I searched the trail throughout my house and garage. I cried. I dumped out my purse. I  cried some more. Then I remembered what Mama had said about her neighbor's keys.  That's when I stopped crying and started yelling my favorite dirty word.

"So THAT'S where my keys are.  No wonder I couldn't find them!  Mama gave them away... #@#*!"  Satisfied I knew the whereabouts of my keys and that tomorrow would be a better day, I finally relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

Tomorrow was a good day.  It brought restored faith in myself.  It brought sunshine and order.  It brought birdies that were singing.  Tomorrow also brought clarity.  Folding the blankets in my car (the ones I had thrown about the night before in my frantic search), I came across the keys:  the missing keys. 

"Well, _ _ _ _!  _ _ _ _, _ _ _ _, _ _ _ _!!!"

End of Story.

I hate days like that!

           Three little keys.  One big lesson.          

Things I've learned this week:

1.  Write a blog entry every week telling about three things you learned that week. (It's best if it's related to your business in some form or fashion.)

2.  Put your keys in the same place every time AND be cognitive while doing it.  Pay attention every time.

3.  It isn't the end of the world when you have a bad day.  Assure yourself that it's okay and do your best to make the next day better. When necessary, repeat several days in a row.  Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat...






@Copyright  2014 Cindy Lou Hodges. All Rights Reserved.

Speaking of worms...

You won't believe what I found this morning... in my bed, under my pillow.   I found what no one expects to find, or ever, ever wants to find  under her pillow.  You might accept the concept of it fairly easily if you find it under your covers at your feet.  Maybe.  Most likely not.  You would think nothing of it if you were outdoors camping.  But, I found it at the top of my bed, precisely in the middle, under my pillow where you're supposed to find nice surprises like candy and pretty things, and money from the tooth fairy.

Isn't your bed supposed to be your sanctuary?  Your place of safety and shelter?  Isn't that where you run to when your world crashes?  Isn't that the place you rush to when you need to cry your eyes out, when your heart is broken and where you hide when you're afraid?  Isn't that your place, your space, your domain, your cradle of love?  Isn't that forbidden territory to all creatures unless invited???

Then tell me why, when, how, and who gave that worm permission to crawl under MY pillow?  Spit fire and toe nails!   I am disgusted, grossed out, and mad!  Now, I'm a girl that grew up in a rural neighborhood in Oklahoma, and I used to play with butterflies, bugs and even worms.  I played in the dirt and made mud pies of every shape and size.  I knew what every kind of manure looked like and smelled like.  I collected crawdads and  caterpillars and dug up earth worms for fish bait, and I even baited my own fish hooks.   I crammed crazy looking creatures into my pockets and carried these pets around with me all day.  But, this brown hairy, one & one half inch worm received no warm welcome from me. 

Times have changed, and so have I.  I live in Texas in a city surrounded by concrete.  I live in a house made of brick.  Oh, I am blessed.  I have a roof over my head, and it doesn't leak.  Oh, I am so blessed.  I sleep in a bed with clean white sheets and warm covers to blanket me.  Yes, I am truly blessed.   I sleep on a mattress that's soft, and my pillow even softer.  I sleep in a bed up off the floor with critters on the outside and me on the inside, or so I thought.

Today's invasion crossed the line of no return.  Judge and jury I became.  Today's critter received no mercy.  Ignoring forbidden boundaries, this worm wiggled and wormed its way into my cozy bed, under my downy, soft pillow, on my clean white sheets, and slept soundly... once.  Only once. 

Now he sleeps in peace. Forever!

As they now say here in my house, and for years have said in my beloved state of  Texas.... "don't mess with Texas!"

Sincerely becoming more and more of a crazy old lady, and surprisingly... enjoying it!

Cindy Lou



@Copyright 2012, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

The Question

Doctors' waiting rooms:  a menagerie of different folks forced to cohabitate together until their name is called!

Yesterday I shared the waiting room with three pairs of people.  A young grandmother and her preteen grand daughter were the quiet ones.  They smiled at me.  Across the room sat the middle age woman with her flaming red hair, her laptop, and her senior male companion.  They were recanting his medical history, details and all, as she documented his history.  Pleeze.  They were oblivious to their rudeness:  oblivious to their crudeness.  They ignored me.  I wished I could have done the same.

Then there was the sullen-looking couple who sat right behind me, the backs of our chairs unmercifully rubbing each other.  My mother sat beside me, her wheelchair placed in the only available space.  So, there I sat filling out the medical forms when I heard the woman behind me say, "Would you say I am a person who keeps her word?"  I dared not turn around, but what a strange question to just blurt out to someone.  Surely she wasn't talking to me, but there was no response from the man directly behind me.  So, after a long quiet spell, she asked her question again, just a little bit louder, "Would you say that I am a person who keeps her word?"  Still no response.

The third time she said it with some attitude, "WOULD YOU SAY THAT I AM A PERSON WHO KEEPS HER WORD?"  He finally said, "What did you say?"  Good gosh, she had to say it again, and this time he retorted,  "Huh?".

I felt like I was in a twilight zone, and all the exit doors had been sealed tight.  The ventilation had seemed to stop, and the fluorescent lights were dancing in circles.  There was no way out.  I was forced to experience this human behavior of humans I had never seen before and never wanted to see again.  My gut instinct was to turn around and yell to the man, "She said... 'Would you say that I am a person who keeps her word?'  Well, is she?  Huh, Huh?  The answer is either yes or no!"

But, before I could whip around in my chair and blurt it out, she interrupted my thoughts and yelled, "Is this your good ear or your bad ear?"  "My gosh, if it's his good ear, I am so out of here... I am bustin' a hole in the wall and runnin' like hell.  What on earth is wrong with these people???"

Finally, without any prodding from me, her bellowing  made contact with his brain.  He understand her question, and he barked, "Yea.".  And, thank goodness, that was it.  She did not ask any more questions. It was over.  I didn't hear another word from either of them, and I didn't feel any more chair movements from behind.  And, as protocol dictates, all of us sitting in the room, pretended nothing had just happened.

What a weird, uncomfortable situation.  I don't know who I felt the worst for:  her, him, or me.  But, it was "real life drama", and the effort spent on obtaining that one answer seems such a waste.  If we could have channeled all that hot air in the room, we could have generated enough electricity to cool the entire building, and a burst of fresh air certainly would have been welcomed.  I find it strange that the poor woman had to ask someone else what she should have already known about herself.  Had she not explored herself enough to know the answer?   How sad, truly sad.

It seems that I find myself in some very uncomfortable places lately, you know... places that are not my normal comfort zone.  And I know we're supposed to keep a stiff upper lip, keep forging ahead, make everyday a masterpiece, and learn to dance in the rain.  So, I keep telling myself, that I can do this.  I can go wherever I need to go, deal with whomever I need to deal with, and I can do whatever is required of me.  I can do this.  But, I think what disturbs me most about this "waiting room episode" is the fact that this rude, obnoxious, insensitive woman who invaded "my space", stirred up something inside me, something my conscious mind would rather not hear and would rather not face. 

Her question still echoes in my mind, but instead of directing the question to someone else, it's time to ask myself... ask myself boldly, bellowingly, strongly, softly, quietly, and then gently... "You say you can do this, Cindy, so... would you say that you are a person who keeps her word?" 

"Well, are you?"



@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

She and Me

She annoyed me. This gentle looking, blue haired "Senior" really made me see red.  She was supposed to be helpful.  That's what hospital volunteers do:  they help people navigate their way through hospitals.  But, this one?  Well... I think she needs to stay home.

Can't figure out why I'm sharing this with you, other than to blow off some steam.  Or, maybe, I need to work through this, and see if I can learn anything from the experience.  I've always said that I can learn something from everyone, educated or uneducated.... so, let's see if that holds true, and I can "walk my talk" on this one.

We had spent the morning at the hospital getting blood tests done, so we had already experienced the routine of checking in at the front desk, waiting for our "buzzer" to flash and sound off, and being escorted to the blood lab.  Now, for the second time in one day, we were back with doctor's orders to have a unit of blood withdrawn.  It's a common procedure for someone with the blood disease Polycythemia-Vera, but not always easy for geriatric patients or someone with weak veins:  both of which Mama is, and Mama has.

Knowing the procedure might take a couple of hours, we went to the ladies' room... with the buzzer tucked in the side of my purse, that purse on my shoulder, both shoulders pushing Mama's wheelchair.  It's never easy going to a public restroom when you're in a wheelchair, and the simplest tasks are not simple at all.  But, you manage as best you can. 

While behind one of the inner "closed doors", we heard someone yell.  I ignored it.  But, then the yelling continued, and this time I understood my mother's last name.  "What?  ... what is she saying?"  So, as I  opened the door, this woman in the blue coat was standing at the big door with her hands on her hips.  She promptly huffed, "You're in here...  I have been looking all over for you!"

I didn't understand why she was so rude, so I replied... "But our buzzer hasn't gone off.  I've been listening for it."

"Well, they're ready for you, and I had to walk all over to find you!"

Totally aghast at her attitude, I tried to change the mood by light-heartedly saying, "When you gotta' go, you gotta' go."  After washing our hands, I rolled Mama out the door as the bluecoat stood rigid as a sentry. 

I knew my way around the hospital.  My gosh, we had lived our lives there for nearly a year, and I needed no instructions on how to get to the lab.  But, as I rolled to the front desk, I heard this demanding voice behind me, "Keep walking!"  The one time I slowed down, she bellowed it again, "Keep walking!"

Her hostility echoed, and mine was awakened!  If I had turned around to look at her, I know without a doubt I would have lashed out at her and said or done something I would later regret:  something like slapping her in the face.  A cat fight could have occurred right there in the main lobby.  She had definately over-stepped the boundary between assistance and control. She deserved to be reprimanded:  not I.

I don't know how, but, somehow, I managed to ignore the hateful heart behind me.  Don't misunderstand me... I am not a saint.  I wanted to say plenty, and I am quite capable of doing so.  Snippets of reactions raced through my mind.  "Who do you think you are?"  "Respect your elders."  "Who made you boss?"   "A soft answer turns away wrath."  "What an old biddy!"  "Love your enemies...  Argh!"  "Talk back to her.  Put her in her place."  Right and wrong replies reeled inside my head. 

So, with my  jaws clenched, and stinging eyes, somehow I remained focused on what was ahead of me and remained focused on my real task:  taking care of my mama.    She was, fortunately, unaware of what was going on, and didn't understand the humiliation that had just occurred.  But, I did.  And, I felt it for both of us.

Before I left the lobby, I handed the black buzzer box to the woman.  "It never made a sound."  I said, and turned on my heels to walk away.  And it was over.  That little combat between two women, both trying to do their jobs, stopped right then and there.  She thought she had won.  I know I did.  Why was there ever a conflict?  Why was there ever anything to win?

Some battles you can choose.  This one was offered to me, and I could have engaged in verbal warfare with the blue-haired, bluecoat.  I wanted to, and I am quite capable of doing so.  But, time tells me that it would have been wasted energy;  energy that was required elsewhere.

It wasn't an easy day, by any means.  It was exhausting and very draining.  It was, also, a day to remember.  Hindsight shows me I should have and could have handled it all differently, but I am not perfect, and I make mistakes, too.
  
Like I said  at the beginning of my story.  I can learn from anyone, and I have relived this episode many times... over & over again, trying to figure out what good came from this unpleasant day.  Just what did I learn from this woman, besides how NOT to treat someone?    Well, I learned three things:  I learned that I can choose my battles, and I learned that I should save my energy for what really is important.

Those are good things to know, and the entire episode proved to be valuable.  Guess I need to say, "Thank you, Ms. Bluecoat, for challenging me to grow.  I am amazed that our brief time together taught me so much about myself, and I am so glad to know that I can handle folks like you.  If our paths should cross again, I do hope you're in a better mood, because you see... I have a short memory and a big mouth, and I just may not remember the very last thing I learned from you."

"And that is:  that I can make and keep my decision to move forward and to stay focused on what is ahead of me and to ignore the ugly that is behind me."

Well, now that all of this is said and done... I feel better.

Sincerely,
Cindy Lou

p.s.  Not proud of my "human-ness", but so aware of it. 


@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

The Iddy, Biddy Diddy

Ever feel like you're trying "too hard"?  Is this truly a possibility or is it just a scam people use as a tactic to get you to stop doing what you're doing?

If someone tells me I'm trying too hard, then it has to be "the scam".  Yea, it's a scam, alright.  However, if I decide that I really am trying too hard, like if I'm black & blue from hitting my head against a wall, then maybe it is time to back off... unless, of course, it is for my family, or for my loved ones, or my friends, or my so-so friends, or my list of people that make me crazy, or my hobbies, or my job, or my latest project, or my next project, or my "I should do this" list, or my "I have to do this" list, or, and by all means... my beloved bucket list.

Hmmm... guess that just about covers it.

No sense in beating my head against the wall to get this point across.  After all, I have to save my energy for daunting projects.  So, let me close with this delightful little, iddy, biddy diddy...

Passionate souls are stubborn souls.
Stubborn souls are hard to sway.
So, if ye be a soul like me,
pray "stubborn" goes away.

Ah, I feel better now.  Let the day begin!

Just call me:  your friend, your want-to-be friend, your so-so friend, or...
"She makes a' me crazy" friend,

Sincerely,
Cindy Lou


p.s. #1  I'm practicing for the Mean Old Lady Olympics.

p.s. #2  I hear they have a competition called Quick Wit.

p.s. #3  I'm sharpening my skills... uh, tongue.

p.s. #4  There is a scripture in Proverbs or somewhere in the Bible about not being stubborn.  I should look it up.

p.s. #5  Can't... I'm too stubborn.

p.s. #6  Yikes!  Feeling convicted.

I Samuel 15:23, Holy Bible, King James Version
"For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry..."

p.s. #7  Uh, oh...  

I John 1:9, Holy Bible, King James Version
"If we CONFESS OUR SINS, he is faithful and just to FORGIVE OUR SINS, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." 

p.s. #8  Sweet... Thank you, Jesus!


@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved